


Unification

by StrippedDowntotheBone



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Gen, M/M, Other, You'll have to read it to find out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-20 05:02:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19986550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrippedDowntotheBone/pseuds/StrippedDowntotheBone
Summary: Angels and demons were not physical beings, but rather, energetic. So to have a form meant you were more than just an energy; you were made matter. You could have been given a life as a rock, or the sea - those were physical things and it counted.Though most that were sent to Earth had taken on the form of a human being because nothing influenced the humans more than their own kind, and that's what they were there for. To influence.Once you had a physical body, you could do what you wanted with it - you could transform from man to woman, you could go from snake to human. You could grow 10 feet or shrink down to the size of an ant. To be made matter came with the ability to transform. The appearance taken on, whatever it was, was the physical version of your own energy. For example, the snake version of Crowley would be different than the snake version of Aziraphale. Where Crowley would be black with yellow eyes, Aziraphale would be white with blue eyes. The one thing that never purely changed was the eyes; the windows to the soul, as they say, and it stood true.Some beings, when taking on a physical form, could bypass that form's needs and natural way of functioning. Most taking on the physical form of a human didn't age, and didn't need to sleep, eat, or drink (other beings loved crepes and wine and took pleasure in napping away a century or two. They were referred to as "natives").Though there were limits; most of those who took on the human form could very well lose it. The human form wasn't indestructible and while keeping the body feeling rested and young, hydrated and sated was easy enough, to keep it from bleeding out when being stabbed was another matter. It took a lot of power and imagination to be able to prevent something like that, and most of the other beings weren't truly human enough to have that much of an imagination. To imagine was to create, and they were not creators; they were followers.Now that we've cleared that up, let's explain the differences between exchanging and sharing a body.To exchange a body is to swap the outer shell, much like swapping clothes or a costume. The energy within does not change, but the outward appearance does, much like we've seen with Aziraphale and Crowley.To share a body is to possess a body, and it's more of a demon thing, though angels also have the capability, as we saw with Madame Tracy and Aziraphale. This is when there are two energies in one form, and the form does not belong to the angel (or demon) possessing it. They are merely going for a ride. This is the more intimate of the two; to possess someone is to merge energies and become one.And with that, we move forward.





	Unification

**Author's Note:**

> Angels and demons were not physical beings, but rather, energetic. So to have a form meant you were more than just an energy; you were made matter. You could have been given a life as a rock, or the sea - those were physical things and it counted. 
> 
> Though most that were sent to Earth had taken on the form of a human being because nothing influenced the humans more than their own kind, and that's what they were there for. To influence. 
> 
> Once you had a physical body, you could do what you wanted with it - you could transform from man to woman, you could go from snake to human. You could grow 10 feet or shrink down to the size of an ant. To be made matter came with the ability to transform. The appearance taken on, whatever it was, was the physical version of your own energy. For example, the snake version of Crowley would be different than the snake version of Aziraphale. Where Crowley would be black with yellow eyes, Aziraphale would be white with blue eyes. The one thing that never purely changed was the eyes; the windows to the soul, as they say, and it stood true. 
> 
> Some beings, when taking on a physical form, could bypass that form's needs and natural way of functioning. Most taking on the physical form of a human didn't age, and didn't need to sleep, eat, or drink (other beings loved crepes and wine and took pleasure in napping away a century or two. They were referred to as "natives").
> 
> Though there were limits; most of those who took on the human form could very well lose it. The human form wasn't indestructible and while keeping the body feeling rested and young, hydrated and sated was easy enough, to keep it from bleeding out when being stabbed was another matter. It took a lot of power and imagination to be able to prevent something like that, and most of the other beings weren't truly human enough to have that much of an imagination. To imagine was to create, and they were not creators; they were followers. 
> 
> Now that we've cleared that up, let's explain the differences between exchanging and sharing a body.
> 
> To exchange a body is to swap the outer shell, much like swapping clothes or a costume. The energy within does not change, but the outward appearance does, much like we've seen with Aziraphale and Crowley.
> 
> To share a body is to possess a body, and it's more of a demon thing, though angels also have the capability, as we saw with Madame Tracy and Aziraphale. This is when there are two energies in one form, and the form does not belong to the angel (or demon) possessing it. They are merely going for a ride. This is the more intimate of the two; to possess someone is to merge energies and become one.
> 
> And with that, we move forward.

It was early in the morning, early enough that the sun still hadn't come up and darkness surrounded A.Z. Fell & Co. Despite the hour, there were people outside, chattering, smoking, walking about. Then of course there were an angel and a demon, who didn't really need to sleep and were enjoying each other's company in the bookshop.

Crowley, the demon dressed as a thin man wearing tight, dark clothes, was sitting upon the couch, one arm over the back of it and the other holding, surprisingly, a book. Aziraphale, the angel dressed as a chubbier man wearing classy light-colored clothing, was sitting in a chair across from him doing just the same. 

Aziraphale had told Crowley about ten minutes ago that he'd planned on doing some reading and that it might be best if Crowley were to leave because he assumed it would have been rather boring for the demon to sit there and watch. 

"I would ask you to stay but I know how you feel about reading," Aziraphale had said, which had only convinced Crowley to grab the nearest book. 

"I read!" he'd whined, and he'd sounded insulted. 

So there was Crowley now, sitting on the couch and reading a very uninteresting book, more lost in his thoughts than lost in the story. He thought of many things, the Apocalypse that didn't happen, Aziraphale, Hell, Aziraphale, Heaven, Aziraphale, his fall, Aziraphale, his Bentley, Aziraphale. How truly boring the book was. It didn't even have pictures; just a bunch of very tiny little words that seemed to go on forever. 

And there was Aziraphale, sitting across from Crowley in his comfortable chair. Unlike Crowley, he was very lost in the story, but as he read that a character took a drink from a goblet, he found himself remembering his hot chocolate. Normally, he would grab the mug without having to look; he was an angel after all, he could sense where things were if he put the effort into it. Though he felt using his eyes to do it this time would give him an excuse to take in his surroundings, visually, if only for a moment. His surroundings, or more like, Crowley. 

So Aziraphale looked up and over at the desk the cup sat on, and watched his hand as he wrapped it around the wings of the angelic mug. He pulled it closer and took a sip, eyes peaking over the rim and over at the demon before him. What a sight it was, Crowley reading of all things. He looked content, and relaxed, and Aziraphale wasn't used to seeing him like that. It filled him with love. He lowered his cup and smiled softly, his blue eyes twinkling in the dim lighting. 

"How can you actually enjoy this?" Crowley suddenly asked, making it apparent that he wasn't as content as he'd appeared to be. Or maybe he was content, but just, so content, that he was become bored with it. He looked up and caught Aziraphale watching him with that fond expression. Crowley didn't seem to think anything of it, but the sudden movement and the sound of Crowley's voice startled Aziraphale. He felt caught and he accidentally spilled his cocoa onto his clothes; his coat, his vest, his pants, everything. 

"Oh good Lord!" Aziraphale called out. 

"Distracted, Angel?" Crowley asked and there was a coy look on his face that made Aziraphale uncomfortable. Crowley had a way of seeing right through him and he seemed to have caught on. Aziraphale only very quickly glanced at Crowley before looking back down at his stained clothes.

"It seems I've made a mess of myself," he said, sheepishly. He looked back up at Crowley, this time more pointedly. His friend knew how much he loved this coat, the entire outfit honestly... and they'd gone over it before... Aziraphale didn't like to miracle his own stains away, because he'd always know it'd been there, deep down... And Crowley had 'miracled' the stain away for him last time... so he'd most likely do it this time, as well. 

Crowley only stared back, not making a move. He knew what Aziraphale wanted... but he was sick of that coat. 

Aziraphale thought perhaps Crowley didn't understand.

"It would take a miracle--!" he began, but Crowley interrupted him.

"No, not this time, I'm not miracling it away," he began.

"Why not?" Aziraphale asked, sadly. 

"C'mon, it's about time you wore something else, isn't it? You've been wearing that thing for how long now? 180 years was it? I haven't seen you in anything else since you got the bloody thing!" Crowley said, letting the book down and gesturing with his hands. 

"Well, I mean, not counting Madame Tracy, of course," he added, quietly.

Aziraphale was originally going to defend his coat, defend his outfit, because it was very stylish, but the mention of riding along in Madame Tracy stopped him.

"Oh, don't remind me," he instead said. 

"That bad, was it?" asked Crowley, and he lay down on the couch, cocking a brow at Aziraphale. Aziraphale scoffed.

"Believe me, my dear, you have no idea," he began. "That woman, she... her mind was filled with... impurity. The things she'd done... the thoughts she was having! It felt very... unclean. Quite frankly, I'm sure being inside of you would have been less alarming," said the angel, and he laughed it off. 

"Ah, mm--" Crowley made odd noises, opened and closed his mouth and looked away from Aziraphale. The corners of his lips tugged downward and his brows pinched together, wrinkling his forehead. Then his expression went blank for a moment before he raised a brow and looked back over at Aziraphale with those golden eyes of his.

"Well... guess we'll never know, right?" he asked.

"Right," Aziraphale agreed, letting out a breath of air that somehow passed as laughter. 

"You know... like you said, could explode or something," Crowley said, glancing at Aziraphale before looking away, waving a hand dramatically and shaking his head back and forth. 

"Yes, yes, and we wouldn't want that," Aziraphale responded, and his awkward chuckling continued. 

It was quiet for a moment before Crowley spoke.

"I mean, it's unlikely..." he said.

"What was that?" asked Aziraphale.

"I said it's unlikely... that we'd explode. You're not pure good," Crowley said, nonchalantly.

"And you're not pure evil," said Aziraphale, looking Crowley up and down. 

"Meet in the middle, really," Crowley replied. 

"I suppose that's true," Aziraphale said. His human body was having some interesting and uncomfortable reactions, reactions he was quite familiar with. His heart was pounding, his face felt hot. It was what he'd heard some people refer to as "having your arteries on edge". Or something of the sort.

"Shouldn't do it, anyway," Crowley said. 

"Ofcoursenot. Whywouldwe?" Aziraphale said, fast enough that the words seemed to merge together. Merge together... Merge... "It's, it's just a, a merging of energies, it would serve no purpose." 

"Far too intimate, really," Crowley said, and he made a look of disgust. Aziraphale swallowed past a lump in his throat. Was Crowley truly disgusted by the idea? He was filled with a sort of sadness before he quickly told himself, oh, but it WOULD be unpleasant! 

"Not to mention intrusive," Aziraphale said, and his voice sounded deeper than usual and he hoped Crowley hadn't noticed. Aziraphale stared down at the book in his hand, pretending to read it but being unable to.

Crowley couldn't seem to sit still. He thought he was used to the feeling of fire flowing through him. He sat up on the couch, took the book in his hand, looked at it, then placed it carefully back down (he didn't like it and he'd wanted to drop it carelessly but he knew how much Aziraphale's books mattered to him). He then itched his chin, making a sound or two before he muttered something. 

"What?" Aziraphale asked, and this time his voice sounded a bit too high pitched. He cleared his throat.

"Hmm?" Crowley asked, brows raising significantly high as he pressed his own lips together. 

"What did you just say?" Aziraphale asked and he flashed his teeth in a nervous grin. 

"Oh, oh, nothing really," Crowley replied. "Just said I might be a bit curious, that's all." His voice got quieter with each word. 

"About what?" asked Aziraphale, looking with wide eyes over at Crowley. 

"About the merging, the merging of energies! What do you think!" Crowley yelled, half impatient and entirely tense. He stood up from the couch and walked away from Aziraphale to instead lean against one of the pillars he so often leaned on.

Aziraphale's brows creased and his lips parted in shock.

"Are you really?" he asked, looking at the couch. He turned to look behind him, over at Crowley. "Curious, I mean?" 

Crowley shook his head back and forth as if to say no, and then he shrugged. "Mmih."

"Well, I..." Aziraphale began, and he sounded breathless. There were times his human body really seemed to make it difficult for him to hide anything. He hoped his nervousness wasn't as apparent as he felt it was. He took a breath before he continued. He smiled, frowned, smiled, and then frowned again. "I suppose we could... try it." He swallowed, eyes back on the couch and feeling stiff as a board. "For curiosity purposes only," he added. 

"How? We can't just... discorporate, especially not with how things are now," Crowley said, and he sounded agitated. 

"We don't have to... deconstruct entirely. We could sort of... just..." Aziraphale hesitated as he thought of the right way to put it.

"Go half way?" Crowley finished for him. 

"Precisely," Aziraphale said.

"I don't know," Crowley rasped, and he stepped away from the pillar. He walked over to Aziraphale and paced before him. "I haven't got much experience with this sort of thing, Angel..." he said, and he looked down at Aziraphale. 

"I could do it. You could stay perfectly... assembled, while I..." Aziraphale gestured with his hands though he wasn't exactly sure if he got his point across. 

"You'll do it, then?" asked Crowley. 

"Correct," Aziraphale said. "I do have some experience with the whole... possession business."

"Oh, don't call it that. Possession, it sounds so... blegh," Crowley said. 

"Well, what would you like me to call it?" Aziraphale asked, only partly defensive. 

"Anything but that," said Crowley. 

"Unification?" Aziraphale offered and Crowley didn't look too pleased.

"Look, nevermind, it doesn't got to have a name, let's just get it on with," Crowley said, reaching his hand out to Aziraphale. Aziraphale set his cocoa down so that he could take Crowley's hand. Crowley pulled him to his feet, and Aziraphale set his book on the desk. They looked at one another as Aziraphale smoothed out his clothes, a nervous habit. He was reminded of the stain once he touched the wet spot. He quickly looked down at himself then up at Crowley and this time, the demon did exactly as was desired of him. He didn't blow this one away, but instead let his hand hover over the stains, slowly and deliberately as they disappeared. 

"Ah. Much better. Thank you," Aziraphale said, smiling. 

\---

Both of them left, to go to a more private area, which turned out to be the bedroom in Crowley's flat. The room was large and spacious and didn't have much other than a king sized bed with black blankets in the middle of it, a plant in the corner and a painting of the garden of Eden.

Crowley snapped his fingers and the plant was gone. 

"Where have you sent it?"

"Away."

"Why?"

"Why do you think? Can't have it watching us, now, can we?" 

It was quiet for a moment as Crowley turned toward Aziraphale and they looked each other in the eye. Neither of them could tell who looked more terrified, but any on-looker would say it was Crowley. 

"Never done anything like this, before," Crowley said, and he was wound up tight, like a drum. Or you could say, like a snake ready to strike, but he was far from ready to strike. At that moment, he looked like the sort of snake that wanted to slither away and hide under a rock. 

"We'll take it slow," Aziraphale said, as calmly as possible.

"Are you sure you're ready for all of this? Ya know, movin' too fast and all of that?" Crowley asked. 

"Oh, hardly. We've known each other for 6,000 years, after all," Aziraphale said. He gave Crowley a knowing look, reminded of the words the demon had said at the bandstand.  
'How long have we been friends? Six-thousand years...!'

Crowley seemed to loosen just a bit. 

"Well, in that case..." Crowley said. He looked confused and unsure, holding his hands out.

"Should we... how...?" asked Crowley, looking Aziraphale up and down, hands hovering over the angel's body. 

"It might help if we make some sort of... contact," Aziraphale said. He raised his hand and Crowley looked at it, lips parted, and then took it in his own very carefully. Aziraphale shut his eyes and Crowley followed suit; they didn't really need to close their eyes, but it did help to focus. 

"I'll just feel my way--" Aziraphale started, voice calm and soothing, but Crowley wasn't having it.

"You don't have to narrate it!" he said, quickly. Aziraphale shut his mouth and raised his brows, as if to say 'well then', eyes still shut. 

Both were motionless and quiet.

Aziraphale felt his way, just as he said he would; not with the physical body he was currently using, but with his conscious; with his true self, which didn't really have a form at all. He took a small piece of him, and slowly he traveled into Crowley's hand from his own. Their energies were instantly merged, and the both of them let out a sound. 

"Oh, oh--" Crowley moaned. 

"Oh, my--" Aziraphale said, almost breathlessly. 

For Crowley, it was unlike anything he'd ever felt. He'd never merged energies with anyone before and that alone was enough to overwhelm him, not taking into consideration the fact that it was Aziraphale. It felt like everything Aziraphale was; love and light, but stronger than Crowley had ever felt it. Aziraphale's energy was cool and calm, gentle and precious. It stroked Crowley's so softly, so lovingly, and it felt to him like what Heaven was supposed to be. Peaceful, comforting. 

Crowley wanted more of it; he didn't have to speak; he coaxed Aziraphale with his own energy, pulled him in deeper. It was intoxicating, too intoxicating. To feel Aziraphale, to be one with him, was the most pleasure he'd felt in all his long, long life. 

"That's, oh, that's-- oh, for the love of... for the love of everything, that's--" Crowley stuttered. 

"Oh, that's really quite... pleasant, isn't it?" Aziraphale asked. 

Aziraphale had felt this merging before, with Madame Tracy; though that had been a less than pleasant experience. She had a kind energy and Aziraphale was not the judging sort, but he'd had access to all of her memories and all of her thoughts, and the woman had had experiences that were quite traumatizing for Aziraphale. He'd seen through her eyes, so many different men, having their way with her. And her own thoughts, well, they were unexpected and terrifying for an angel. The language she used in reference to theirs and her own body parts alone was enough to fluster him. 

But with Crowley, it was different. Feeling Crowley as he slowly merged with him felt right, righter than anything. Crowley's energy felt much like his own; that love in Aziraphale was also present in Crowley, and it was very, very strong. And Crowley's conscious stroked his own in the same gentle manner, cautious and testing. But there was something else too, something different; Crowley's energy wasn't cool and calm, his was hot and thrilling. 

Aziraphale wanted more of it. He pushed in deeper. 

Crowley gasped. He could feel Aziraphale's feelings. More than the energy, he could feel every little emotion. The fear, the pleasure, the pain. The anger. Crowley was familiar with all of it. 

On Aziraphale's end, he could feel all the same; if it hadn't been apparent then, it was definitely obvious now, how alike they were. There was a feeling of belonging, of wholeness; they'd always felt it when together, but it was made clearer now, and was more powerful than ever. 

Crowley took Aziraphale in even deeper, to the point that he could not only feel Aziraphale's feelings, but also knew his thoughts. Words he couldn't see and sounds he couldn't hear swam around within him. He saw some of Aziraphale's memories, one which was of Heaven, and he felt the fear and the pain that was associated with it. Crowley swiftly whisped it away, and replaced it with his own memory, of the two of them standing on the wall of Eden, those 6,000 years ago. 

Aziraphale was struck with such love that he nearly wept. He felt everything Crowley felt when he'd first introduced himself and was bombarded with feelings of admiration and tenderness. 'We are the same,' were the words that Aziraphale felt Crowley most related to in that moment in Eden. Aziraphale was overcome as he realized just how long Crowley had felt as he did.

'Oh, Crowley,' Aziraphale sent the message. 

'Angel.'

Aziraphale shared with Crowley one of his own memories, of London in 1941, just after Crowley had rescued his books. Aziraphale felt what would equate to a smile if he were to look at Crowley. 

'Aaangel...' Aziraphale could hear; it was nearly on repeat, over and over again, as their energies were fondling, caressing, brushing, kneading. There was love, so much love. 

'Crowley...' 

Aziraphale felt Crowley's desire for Aziraphale to come all the way in, to see and feel more, to become entirely encompassed, for him to fill every gap, and while Aziraphale wanted nothing more, he had to decline. He couldn't leave his body entirely. Though with each passing second, it was becoming harder and harder not to, and Aziraphale felt it might be best that they separate for the time being. He sent the message to Crowley and he felt the disappointment but also an understanding. 

And with that, Aziraphale reluctantly pulled back, out of Crowley's hand and back into his own body. The feeling of emptiness that came with the detachment was overwhelming and the two of them were left unsatisfied, though still sheepish and feeling closer than ever. 

"That was..." Crowley started, and he made a bunch of expressions, eyes glazed over and unable to really get much out. 

"Yes, it was," Aziraphale responded. He looked Crowley up and down and found that, between his legs, there was quite the bulge. Aziraphale took the moment to check himself; he was in the same state. 

They'd given themselves the human bits, to play the part more accurately, and it seemed that the merging of energies had been rather pleasurable for the both of them. 

"S'that ever happened to you before?" Crowley asked, looking down at Aziraphale's package with curiosity. 

"No, it certainly hasn't!" Aziraphale said, and his cheeks turned red as he raised his hand to snap it away, but Crowley stopped him. 

"Ah, ah, ah," he said swiftly and he held Aziraphale's hand in place. 

"What are you--? You aren't suggesting--" Aziraphale began, and Crowley tilted his head to the side and made a face that said 'I might be'. 

"No!" Aziraphale shouted.

"Why?" asked Crowley.

"I will not! You know very well that Angels don't DO that sort of thing, Crowley!" he cried. 

"They don't eat either, do they? Or drink. Or consort with the enemy. Definitely don't merge energies with 'em," Crowley said. "C'mon, it might be fun, you've always been a fan of fun. And pulling out like that, it was just, it was unsssaaatisfying, right?" 

"Well..." Aziraphale said, quietly, and there was agreement in his voice. "It did seem to feel quite premature." 

"Exactly! There are... other ways we could satisfy one another, Angel. All the humans are doing it these days. Animals too! They can't get enough of it!"

"I am fully aware that Earth's creatures copulate!" 

"Just saying, they might be onto something."

"But..." Aziraphale started, and he gave Crowley a look that said 'I really would love to try this but should I?' 

"But what?" Crowley asked.

"But they have reason to! They're procreating!" Aziraphale cried.

"Not all of 'em! A lot of 'em just do it for the Heaven of it! Most of 'em wear protection to prevent reproducing, actually! And that's not even mentioning the homosexuals! They're never going to procreate, but they're all doing it too," Crowley explained in his desperation. He wasn't really one to give up and he always had a way of convincing the angel, especially when he knew the angel was most definitely interested. 

"Yes, but we're not homosexual! At least, not technically... We're not even human!" Aziraphale responded. 

"Does it matter?" Crowley asked, palms up. 

Aziraphale's face was etched with worry, forehead wrinkling and blue eyes fearful. He took in breath after unsteady breath. Crowley posed a good question. DID it matter?

"What are you worried about?" Crowley asked softly. "Nobody's watching us, not anymore. We can indulge in whatever we want. Come on, for curiosity's sake? We'll just use hands!"

Both said nothing, only looked each other in the eye. Crowley's were intense and penetrative, Aziraphale's were anxious yet hopeful. 

"Alright, for curiosity's sake alone, but we will only do it just this once!" Aziraphale said, and he snapped, but instead of snapping away the hardness between his legs, he snapped away their clothes. They appeared side by side and folded neatly on the bed.

"Just like that, eh?" Crowley said past a smile.

"Wily serpent," said Aziraphale and though his eyes hinted at his disapproval, his hardness and his actions hinted at just the opposite. 

They both looked the other up and down with interest. Neither of them had ever really been sexually attracted to anything before and, even while seeing the other naked, there wasn't a desire that came with the sight so much as a fascination. The physical form had never really mattered to either of them (though that was subject to change, especially after associating it with the pleasure that was soon to come). They looked at each other's bodies as more of an illusion; a costume. Capable of transforming at any time. 

The real Crowley, the real Aziraphale, was the energy that made them. Their true forms were more of a frequency, a vibration, and not even truly visible to most humans; although some might perceive Aziraphale as a bright, white light and Crowley as a sort of liquid fire. 

Though while in their human-like form, they could enjoy the human experience, and that's exactly what they planned to do. Just as they'd always done. 

In this area, Crowley seemed to be more knowledgeable. While Aziraphale stood there, flustered and unsure, Crowley stepped forward and wasted no time in wrapping his hand around Aziraphale's hardness. 

"Aah...!" Aziraphale yelped, eyes widening. Crowley watched Aziraphale's face, his own lids heavy and jaw jutting out, a brow arched. Aziraphale looked up at him and chuckled uneasily, and just before he said something, Crowley stroked him, and he instead let out another cry. Crowley couldn't stop himself from smiling with satisfaction.

"Have you... hoh!... done this before?" asked Aziraphale, and he found himself hoping that the answer would be no.

"Not really. Just done it to myself here and there," Crowley replied. That eased Aziraphale's mind, though he also had many questions, and he thought to ask them, but it became difficult to focus on much as Crowley released him only to bring his hand to his mouth and shamelessly slide his long tongue along his palm. He made a noise, a sort of hiss and then he lowered his hand and wrapped it back around Aziraphale's member. Aziraphale let out a rough breath.

"Oh...!"

"Care to contribute?" Crowley asked softly and Aziraphale looked up at him and then down at the stiffness in front of him. 

"Of - of course," Aziraphale said, trying not to sound as if he were losing control of everything. He reached his own pale hand out and did just as Crowley was doing. He wrapped his hand around Crowley and began stroking. 

"Thaaat'sss it..." Crowley hissed, and his eyes shut only momentarily before they opened again and focused on Aziraphale's. He then looked down at Aziraphale's member, and he moved his hand faster, earning more moans and groans from the angel. Aziraphale started leaking as Crowley's fist moved along, slick and slippery. He pulled harder, harder, faster. He loved the effect it was having on his angel, who went from shutting his eyes tight, to opening them wide, to clenching his teeth, to moaning out loud. And to have the angelic hand on him at all was enough to nearly send him over the edge, alone. There was something about Aziraphale doing something so sinful that catered to a need deep within him.

"Faster, angel," Crowley said and he growled a bit in his throat before politely adding "Pleaasssee." 

Aziraphale obliged and soon they both were going at the same pace, wet and hard and throbbing. They were coming closer and closer, and in that moment, suddenly Aziraphale's energy was thrust into Crowley's, and the demon couldn't stop from gasping. 

Aziraphale's hand stroking him so quickly, Aziraphale's energy having so mercilessly and unexpectedly merged with his own. Aziraphale having finally accepted him, given in to what they'd both always wanted (to be together freely), was all that Crowley needed to reach the end. He let out a load groan followed by an "Aangeell!!" and a very dramatic "Oh, FUCK!!!" and then he came, all over the place. Aziraphale's hand, his stomach, the floor. 

All the while, he pulled on Aziraphale relentlessly, who was nearly weeping with pleasure, crying out "Crowley, oh, for Heaven's sake!" 

"Heaven's got nothing to do with this, angel!" Crowley barked, and he shoved his own energy against Aziraphale's, letting him feel all he was feeling, firey and burning passion, lust and love and pleasure unlike anything.

"Oh, oh!" Aziraphale moaned and then he came, just as long if not longer than Crowley, their energies feeling like bombs going off against the other.

Both caught their breath, and Aziraphale slowly removed himself from Crowley, both energetically and physically. They then looked at one another, golden eyes meeting white wings and blue eyes meeting black. Apparently, along the way, the both of them had brought their wings to the Earthly plain. With a snap of Aziraphale's fingers, the cum was gone, as were their wings, and they were back in their clothes. 

They looked at one another, searching, somewhat at a loss for what to say. Aziraphale cleared his throat and put his hands behind his back while Crowley looked around the room. He snapped his fingers and brought the plant back. 

"So..." he then said, softly. "Breakfast?" 

"That would be lovely," Aziraphale responded and he looked up at Crowley, blue eyes loving and shy. 

And though Aziraphale had initially said they were to do it only just that once, Crowley knew well enough that they were going to be doing it again, and soon. 

The End.

**Author's Note:**

> I was originally going to write out the scene that wasn't in the series, where they swap bodies, but I realized it wouldn't fit with what I wanted to go with. The idea was to merge the energies, not to swap the outward appearance. I was thinking back to the scene where Aziraphale mentions "inhabiting" Crowley's body, possessing it, and when he said it might explode. The way they both acted like they didn't want it was hilarious to me, with that nervous energy and the over-dramatic expressions like "oh, yes, that would be just terrible". It obviously stood for sex in one way or another and I wanted to emphasize that point in this story. There's something truly erotic about merging on an energetic level.


End file.
